


it comes back to me

by kerrykins



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Domesticity, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykins/pseuds/kerrykins
Summary: It was the act of being in love and having someone love her back, the comfortable but resilient kind of intimacy that old couples strolling through a park shared.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Comments: 9
Kudos: 136





	it comes back to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elle_nic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_nic/gifts).

> hi i'm not sure what this is but it's for elle_nic (ilysm!) and i'm learning how to write mirandy again

_ “...but my warmth is not fraudulent and it’s there to be given away, because when I give it away, it comes back to me.”  _

—Jenny Slate

Andy took a long drink from the glass of water before handing it to Miranda.  _ We’ve never shared a glass before, _ she thought, watching Miranda gingerly prop herself up to take it, then down the remainder. There was an ease to the way the older woman held herself when it was just the two of them, that Andy was still wondrous of despite its familiarity. At work Miranda was so performative, from her posture to the elegant flick of a wrist. While Miranda believed there was beauty in perfection, Andy thought the same of the opposite.

“What?” Miranda asked, giving Andy a look that was both suspicious and irritated, one that the younger woman knew too well.

“Nothing.” Andy knew she was smiling and probably looked silly, but didn’t really care. “I just like looking at you. Is there something wrong with that?” She wondered if Miranda would humour her this time, play along with the light teasing. Miranda typically did, when she was in a good mood.

It seemed as though Miranda wasn’t going to this time, because her expression was now contemplative, and she always said the most cosmically profound things after sex. “It makes me feel as though I’m a museum exhibit of some sort that people won’t stop gawking at. And I don’t really care for it.” She leaned against the headboard and pillows, tilting her head to the ceiling. Andy could make out the small bump in her nose.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Andy wanted to touch Miranda’s face or shoulder in apology, but their positions on the bed wouldn’t allow it. They sat a few feet away, a fraction angled away from each other. Miranda wasn’t happy and she’d probably snap if Andy tried to do anything other than shut up now.

Andy had rolled over and made the decision to be quiet, but then Miranda resumed speaking.

“It’s, um. It’s because I know when people look at me, they’re expecting to see something I’m obligated to give them. Even at times when I’m not particularly equipped to.” Andy turned around to see Miranda watching her, though the older woman’s eyes were vacant. “It’s, well...” A line formed between her eyebrows.

“I get it,” Andy offered gently. “It’s really hard.” She sat up and took Miranda’s hand in hers. “But I don’t expect anything like that from you, I promise it’s not like what you go through at work.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

Andy hesitated before answering, “Whatever it is you can give. I’ll be satisfied with whatever you have to offer, so long as it’s yours.” She took Miranda’s silence as acknowledgement, bringing her lips to the older woman’s cheek briefly. Miranda was still and the room was too dark, but Andy sensed that something— small but not insignificant— had changed.

____

Andy didn’t know how to make lemonade; that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the process. Caroline and Cassidy wouldn’t sit still at the counter like their mother had instructed, choosing instead to race around the house with Patricia close behind. Despite the air of annoyance Miranda tried to put on, it didn’t do much to hide the fact that she thought the whole thing to be rather funny. Andy caught Miranda looking up from the recipe book and raising an eyebrow at her from time to time.

Afterwards, Andy’s hands were sticky despite how many times she ran them under the faucet. Once her side of the kitchen was cleaned, she crept down the hall and into Miranda’s study.

“I thought you agreed not to work on weekends,” Andy said, keeping her voice light so Miranda knew she was only joking. She sank into the opposite end of the couch, sneaking a glance at the glossy pages Miranda was turning through. Coloured sticky notes stuck out in straight flaps, Miranda’s sharp cursive standing out amongst the sea of chicken-scratch. Andy didn’t understand fashion, though she’d learned a few things over her two years at Runway. She knew enough to hold a conversation with Miranda about whatever genius spread she had planned, but that was all.

Miranda peered at her over the rims of her reading glasses, like she’d done so many times before, the first being Andy’s job interview. However there was a warmth there that had never been present at Runway, one exclusive to a very select group of people; that included Andy, who couldn’t help but feel awed every time she remembered that she was special to Miranda. It wasn’t because of her prestige or her wealth but rather, being enough for Miranda, whose greatest skill was finding dissatisfaction at every turn. It was the act of being in love and having someone love her back, the comfortable but resilient kind of intimacy that old couples strolling through a park shared.

“I did promise you that, but I had to do something while I waited,” was Miranda’s dry reply, though she pushed the Book away and removed her glasses. “The girls are asleep,” she added casually, as though it were an afterthought. Though, her eyes flickered away from Andy’s as she fiddled with her glasses.

“Oh, good.” Andy leaned in to kiss the older woman, to demonstrate her appreciation and give Miranda what it was she needed.


End file.
